


Everyone Dies

by NHarmonic



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Episode: s04e01 The Six Thatchers, Gen, Sherlock and John still arguing, Unrequited Love, Voicemail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:39:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NHarmonic/pseuds/NHarmonic
Summary: Summary: Sherlock wanted to hear his voice. Just one last time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This takes place after Six Thatcher's on Sherlock. (btw you and me, some parts of that episode really lost me) but this takes place where John and Sherl’s are still out of it. This is sad people.

Sherlock coughed, unwillingly, his body instinctively trying to remove the blood from his airway. This wasn’t like before. A trained killer hadn’t shot him with the intention of him living. This was some bum, a case Sherlock had used to try and get his mind off John, and now, it was his murder.

Sherlock gasped, his breath quickening. Imagine that, Lestrade and the Scotland Yard would be standing over his body soon; trying to solve his murder. Sherlock wondered if they would solve it, the dunderheads.

Sherlock grits his teeth. Where was John when he needed him? John would have called the police. John would be putting pressure on his wound, doing a much better job that Sherlock’s weak hands were currently trying. John would be nagging him, telling him what an idiot he was. Sherlock the idiot.

Where was John saving his life?

Making a decision, because he knew the other was a waste of time, Sherlock reached into his pocket; painfully finding his mobile. He pressed the home button, waiting for the chime.

“C-Call John,” Sherlock said, grimacing as he brought the phone to his face.

_ “Calling John Watson….” _

It only rang once; Sherlock wasn’t surprised. John hasn’t answered a single call from him. Not since that day. Sherlock didn’t care. He had to hear it. John’s voice. One last time.

_ “This is John Watson,” _ his voicemail began,  _ “I can’t reach the phone, but leave a message and I’ll call you back. And… if this is you Sherlock… stop calling…” _

_ “Please leave a message after the beep:...” _

“John?” Sherlock asked, ignoring the idiocy of questions; John wouldn’t hear him. “It, it is me. I-I’m sorry, I w-wanted to sp-speak to you, before… I want to apologize; sincerely… I swore to protect her, all-all of you, and I’ve failed.”

Sherlock grunted, feeling colder as his blood pool under him. “I have to confess; I- I have f-feelings for you…” unwilling tears fell from his eyes; why, he didn’t know, “I don’t know what they-they are, but they hurt… and I can’t tell you in person now… I’m-I’m sorry.”

“Goodbye... Rosie,” Sherlock finally said, “Goodbye… John…”

**~?~?~?~**

John stared at the ground, soaked to the bone from the rain and sleet, his phone pressed to his ear. His eyes were wide. No one had told him yet, but this couldn’t be real. He did not just skip Sherlock’s funeral. Sherlock was alive, in some third world country, solving crimes for the UN and being an annoying detective. Right?

“John, where were you?” Mrs. Hudson asked, umbrella over her head; she was crying. “You weren’t there.”

“Mrs. Hudson,” John whispered.

“John?” Mrs. Hudson replied, “What is it?”

“Dr. Watson,” Mycroft greeted, emotionless and proper.

John grabbed his lapels, shaking him as he pulled the government closer to him. “It isn’t real,” he demanded. “Sherlock is alive; he faked it again! Tell me!”

Mycroft stared. “Sherlock Holmes is dead,” he said.

John released him in shock. “No,” he whispered; this wasn’t fake.

“You’ve just missed his funeral,” Mycroft confirmed.

“Mr. Holmes,” Mrs. Hudson admonished, tears renewed, but Mycroft ignored her.

Distantly, John heard the baby monitor on his hip sound off, and Mrs. Hudson entering his home to sooth Rosie. John couldn’t move; standing stiffly with horror.

“Sherlock…”

**Author's Note:**

> End.  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> I don't think I have anything else to add. Ja ne.


End file.
